


One Doc at a Time

by NoWorries



Category: One Day at a Time (TV 2017)
Genre: Coda, Engagement, F/M, Family Feels, Feelings Realization, Online Dating, POV Third Person, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-07 06:50:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21211562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoWorries/pseuds/NoWorries
Summary: After coming back from Lydia's and his trip to Cuba, Dr. Berkowitz decides to make a major change in his life and moves into Schneider's apartment building. From his new home, he witnesses much more drama than before and even gets pulled into some of it as he forms a closer bond with Schneider.





	1. Chapter 1

When Dr. Berkowitz first set foot inside his new home, it was together with Schneider, who appeared especially friendly and welcoming that day, giving Dr. Berkowitz a tour of the apartment.

“And here… we have…” Schneider said while typing on his phone with one hand and holding the knob to the next door in the other. Schneider was probably stringing the moment out on purpose to make the tour even more exciting (as if that was even possible!). “The, uh…” Schneider opened the door, still frowning at his phone. “Master bedroom.”

Dr. Berkowitz curiously entered the unfamiliar room and inspected the shower, toilet and sink (the porcelain had an enormous crack in it, but it was nothing compared to the crack in his soul). Beyond that one minor flaw, Dr. Berkowitz couldn’t really complain. He asked Schneider if he was allowed to test the toilet flushing, but didn’t receive an answer. Schneider was probably just in awe at the thought that they were soon going to be neighbors. Taken by a sudden feel of rebellion, Dr. Berkowitz decided to test the toilet flushing anyway, and it worked like a dream. He was very content and could really see himself staring at his old, saggy face in the mirror for hours on end in here. And the shower, with its faded color and claustrophobic size, was practically _inviting_ him to cry in it for half an hour every day before work.  
  
“I love it, Schneider”, Dr. Berkowitz said. “Just hand me a sleeping bag, and I’ll squeeze my old, fragile body under the sink to take a nap in here right now!”  
  
Finally, Schneider looked up from his phone and facepalmed. “Oh, sorry, Doc. That’s the bathroom.”  
  
“Thank God!” Dr. Berkowitz breathed out in relieve.  
  
“Man, I gotta tell you”, Schneider began, suddenly leaning closer to Dr. Berkowitz. “Just between us woke, non-toxic young men… ugh, Avery! She’s attractive, amazing, angelic and all the other a-words–“  
  
“Anemic?” Dr. Berkowitz asked, concerned.  
  
“Yeah, sure, that too”, Schneider added carelessly. “But, and I do not want to cast her in a negative light at _all_ here, sometimes she’s also just… so…” Schneider pantomimed, choking himself while sticking his tongue out in a dramatic manner, then proceeded by faking his death on the floor, but rose from the dead one last time to pretend-hit himself in the face multiple times. Then, within an instant, he was back to his cheery old self. “But really, she’s an _amazing _woman.”  
  
Dr. Berkowitz had seen this kind of behavior before. “Are you sure? This is a safe environment, Schneider. She’s not around to hurt you. You can tell me the truth, son to father.”  
  
Schneider hid his face in his hands, making his emotions difficult to be read. “Oh my God …”  
  
“Spill it, son!”  
  
“It’s not like that, all right?” Schneider said, nervously circling the bathroom. “She’s sweet, she makes me laugh, but she can be so demanding! Yesterday when she came home from Work–that’s short for Deep Work, a fitness program where you burn like 600 calories an hour–she asked me to take out the trash. That woman’s got some nerve! Like I haven’t had my own individualized waste chute installed in my apartment for five years! What kind of rich person _is_ she?”  
  
Dr. Berkowitz looked up at the ceiling, nodding compassionately. “My ex-wife too forced me to take out the trash. Almost every day for ten years.”  
  
“So, you put up with that?”  
  
“Someone had to do it”, Dr. Berkowitz said. “And it wasn’t like my daughters could do it, because they always said they had to paint their nails, pluck their brows, or… just sit still? Though I still struggle with understanding the urgency of that one.”  
  
“Well I, for one”, Schneider said as he approached the next door, while simultaneously reaching for his phone in his pocket. He frowned at his phone’s screen while speaking on. “Am _not_ tolerating that dictatorship of hers… for another… dayyy... Sorry, Doc, I gotta go. My ‘manly assistance’ is needed, as she puts it.”  
  
“Oh, what is it?”  
  
Schneider turned around, grinning. He was almost out the door. “It’s not about the trash, but I assume some dirt is definitely going to be involved. See ya. Oh, the apartment’s yours, by the way!”  
  
“Well, thank you. I really enjoyed our”, Dr. Berkowitz began with a playful undertone in his voice.  
  
The bang of the apartment’s door made him cringe. “_Trash_ talk”, he sighed.  
  
He’d sensed that Schneider had been just too friendly towards him today. Too good to be true, as all of his even slightly positive life experiences are. Dr. Berkowitz felt disappointed, still. Ever since they’d spent that one day alone together at Lydia’s, cooking, dancing, just having a jolly old time, he’d hoped that Schneider and him would become _besties_ somehow. And while Dr. Berkowitz did notice Schneider’s upward tendency of opening his heart to him, he wasn’t sure if Schneider really liked _him_, or if he just needed to vent sometimes and Dr. Berkowitz happened to be a good listener. Schneider hadn’t even reacted to Dr. Berkowitz calling him his son today (twice!), which stung a little, even though being ignored by a family member was the most normal thing in the world to Dr. Berkowitz. He breathed in deeply and closed his eyes.  
  
“Anyhoo”, he said to himself, his voice slightly echoing in the empty apartment.  
  
He turned around in a circle and took in his new home. It wasn’t exactly an upgrade to his old place, which had been an expensive, spacious family home in the suburban area that he’d inherited from his mother. Back there, he had his very own garden, and oh, what joy it had always been, trimming the hedges with his electric hedge clippers before work at five thirty in the morning! The neighbors had always been horsing around with him, too, asking him what the hell he was doing there at five in the morning and such. The memory of the familiar buzzing sound of his clippers filled him with nostalgia and watered up his eyes. All that he would have to leave behind!  
  
Slowly, he walked towards the final room, which Schneider hadn’t come around to showing him. The wood was creaking under his feet and the hinges were screaming for oil as he opened the last door.  
  
The sun suffused the master bedroom with a golden glow. The sound of pigeons cooing drew him to the window, and his eyes met a beautiful, neat little bird’s nest on the window sill outside. Dr. Berkowitz hardly remembered what affection felt like, but in that moment, he knew he had to protect and care for those birds.  
  
As he was just about to leave the apartment, the muffled but unmistakeable sound of the Alvarez kids’ laughter in the hallway made him stop. Oh, right.  
He still had to tell the _fam_ about his decision to move into their house.  
  
Or… did he?  
  
*

Moving to his new home had cost Dr. Berkowitz a fortune, but luckily–and it wasn’t a regular occurrence that he thought about his life like this–he was a doctor and wouldn’t run out of money any time soon. That was the reason why he’d invited Lydia to the opera a couple of days after he had moved in (as always pretending to have a left-over ticket) and had even treated her to an expensive dinner in the city afterwards. While enjoying his lobster with a cooling glass of Chardonnay, he had been really tempted to rejoice in the sight of Lydia having a good time at her table way across the room, looking so elegant in that red, sparkly dress of hers … but, as Lydia had inculcated him dramatically, “It it forbidden!” And Dr. Berkowitz wouldn’t dare to question Lydia’s orders in his dreams.  
  
Now they were back from the restaurant and casually hanging at the Alvarez’ home, as non-sexual platonic companions do. Lydia was preparing dinner for the family (even though she’d already eaten – such a saint, that woman!), humming along to the radio, and Penelope also showed up every now and then. She was currently busy preparing for a date in the bathroom – a date with a man she’d met on the Internet.  
  
Dr. Berkowitz, sitting on the sofa and unsure of what to do with his hands, used the quiet moment to reminisce about Cuba and their nonniversary. Ever since their trip to Cuba, things had been … surprisingly not different at all. They’d had so much fun together there. Lydia had even taught him _la salsa_ (Well, she’d tried). They’d been strolling through the streets of Havana together, enjoying their cigars and simply living their best life. On their last day in Cuba, they had driven up to a beach miles from anywhere. Lydia had stepped along the coast, carrying her heels in her hand, her white dress floating in the wind, and she’d spread Berto’s ashes. Afterwards they’d cried together and he’d been allowed to hold her hand for a short while.  
  
“Leslie, my feet hurt, I need my slightly flatter evening heels!” Lydia called from the kitchen.  
  
Dr. Berkowitz was up on his feet within a second. “Coming right up!”  
  
After dealing with the shoes, they continued cooking – together.  
  
Penelope finally came out of the bathroom. Immediately, Alex jumped out of his room, yelling, “Other people live here too, you know!” And slammed the bathroom door shut.  
  
“Hey, no yelling in my house!” Penelope yelled after him. She entered the kitchen. “Mmmh, that smell, Mami!”  
  
“Thank you, Lupita.”  
  
“Oh, hello, Doc”, Penelope greeted him, looking surprised.  
  
“I’ve been here for almost an hour”, Dr. Berkowitz pointed out. “We’ve said hello twice.”  
  
“Well, third time’s the charm. Anyway.” Penelope showed herself off from all sides with a confident smile on her face. “Am I looking hot and or what?”  
  
“Hotter than your mother’s famous chili sauce!”  
  
“That’s impossible”, Lydia dead-panned, stirring soup.  
  
Penelope tried to laugh, then suddenly stopped and started circling the room. “Oh, Mami, I can’t do this! Online dating, what was I thinking? I’ve never done this before, what if I did something wrong? What if … I signed up to some weird fetish website or something?”  
  
“Lupe”, Lydia said sympathetically. “I am sure that you did it right. So, are you two meeting at the Internet?”  
  
Penelope laughed. “No, we’re going out to a bar. Don’t worry, I know the place. If he’s _loco_, I know where all the exits are. Oh, and also I’ve been in the army, so _he_ should be scared of _me_.”  
  
“That’s right, sister”, Dr. Berkowitz said.  
  
“I’m sure he will be wonderful, as all your men are”, Lydia said and tasted her soup. She gave an approving nod and began untying her apron. “Leslie, carry the food to the table.”  
  
“Yes, Ma’am”, he replied happily.  
  
“I know, I know”, Penelope went on, following them to the dinner table. “I know where this is going. He’s going to be wonderful, you’re all gonna love him, and then – Ba-bam! Bye-bye Mister Perfect.”  
  
“Papito! Elena!” Lydia called. “Dinner!”  
  
“I told you, Elena’s at Syd’s”, Penelope said and sat down at the table. “It’s the first time Elenas having dinner with their family”, she explained to Dr. Berkowitz.  
  
Lydia put her hands up. “Her loss. Today, I made my _caldo de pollo_, or as I like to call it: The reason your father never looked at another woman for all of our marriage.”  
  
Penelope scoffed. “Really, Mami, _the_ reason? And we’ve been over this. My cooking abilities have nothing to do with my previous failed relationships. The most amazing _caldo de pollo_ cannot fix fundamental issues between two people.”  
  
Now, Lydia scoffed. “Have you tried it?”  
  
Penelope gave her mother a dubious look.  
  
“Just saying”, Lydia said defensively.  
  
“Whatever”, Penelope said. “I’m in a bit of a hurry. My Uber’s picking me up in twenty minutes and I can’t drink on an empty stomach.”  
  
“Sup.” Alex came strutting to the dining table. “Oh, chicken soup. Nice one, Abuelita.”  
  
Lydia smiled. “Thank you, Papito.”  
  
Everybody helped themselves to one ladleful of _caldo de pollo_. Dr. Berkowitz was the first to applaud it. Penelope was second, but she visibly regretted her compliment soon afterwards, because it lead to yet another argument about whether or not the soup’s exquisite taste was enough to keep a relationship stable. It didn’t take long for Dr. Berkowitz to start feeling increasingly uncomfortable, because after all, he was the one who’d started the argument by expressing his enjoyment of the soup. It was obviously his fault.  
  
“Excuse me, ladies”, Dr. Berkowitz began, hoping they wouldn’t notice the sweat glistening on his forehead. It turned out they didn’t notice him at all. The Alvarez women just kept on fighting, more in Spanish than English now. Alex was looking really uncomfortable, too. After a while, Lydia and Penelope switched to aggressively ignoring each other while spooning the soup. The silence (except for the sound of spoons clanking) became unbearable. Dr. Berkowitz cleared his throat.  
  
“Excuse me, ladies”, he restarted. Both of them flashed their eyes at him, which caused a single drop of sweat to drip down his cheek. “If I have anything to say in the matter…”  
  
Alex slowly shook his head at him, but Dr. Berkowitz couldn’t stop himself.  
  
“I, for one, wouldn’t want to miss Lydia’s delicious treats _for the world_.”  
  
Penelope dropped her spoon, creating a loud clank, and folded her arms.  
  
“I told you”, Lydia said, slurping her soup innocently.  
  
Penelope shook her head and proceeded to get up from the table. “I don’t have time for this right now. In fact, I only have like thirty seconds to refresh my lipstick and make some room in my purse, ‘cause those breadsticks ain’t gonna steal themselves.”  
She stopped on her way to the bathroom, eyeing her son. “Of course I’m not _stealing_ them. It’s not stealing when the goods are free. Duh.”  
  
Precisely thirty seconds later, the doorbell rang.

“Dangit.”  
  
Penelope came rushing out of the bathroom, her curls bopping up and down and her heels tapping. She grabbed her purse in a hurry, then remembered to make some room, and eliminated dozens of tissues, free samples, a couple of plastic containers and a travel-sized blow-drier.  
  
“All right.” She turned to them with an excited smile, smoothening her dress out with her hands. “Mami’s going out. Hopefully having a good time… in a safe environment. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone, Alex, Mami, make sure Elena’s back by 8:30 and Dr. Berkowitz”, she hesitated. “Yeah, I don’t know why I started that sentence. I’m nervous. Bye, everybody!”  
  
“Have fun, Lupe”, Lydia said, waving her hand.  
  
Penelope rushed out the door. The three of them finished up their dinner.  
  
“I’m worried about her”, Lydia then said, grim-faced.  
  
Alex looked at her. “Why?”  
  
“I don’t know.” Lydia sighed. “She shouldn’t have to do this. She’s such a beautiful, young woman. The men should be chasing _her.”_  
  
“But it’s hard meeting new people, Grandma”, Alex said. “You know, when I worked at Mum’s practice, it was _so boring_ and they had, like, two patients an hour and most of them were really old, smelly or probably already married. And after work I was so exhausted, I didn’t even feel like meeting up with my friends. She probably feels the same.”  
  
“True story”, Dr. Berkowitz chimed in. “Some days, dying seems like a more attractive idea than taking that two-hour drive to New York after a ten-hour work day to meet up with the fam. But I still do it. For you, Lydia.”  
  
“Aw, that’s nice, Leslie”, Lydia said distractedly, patting Dr. Berkowitz’s knee. “But it just seems so unfair.” She put her hands up in a gesture of sheer desperation. “Even Schneider is getting married before Lupe! Schneider! _¡Qué lío!_”  
  
“_Schneider_ is getting married?!” Dr. Berkowitz and Alex burst out in unison.  
  
Lydia froze, all eyes on her. Then, she faked a laugh while getting up from the table to collect the dishes. “Noo, no, of course he is not getting married. What I said was, he is getting … _¿Cómo se dice_… ah. He is getting buried”, she said, content with herself.  
  
“Schneider is _dying_?!” Dr. Berkowitz and Alex called out again.  
  
Lydia gave up, putting down the dishes and gesturing with her hands angrily. “He has a wonderful woman! Of course he is marrying her! They already set a date and they’ll have a beautiful summer wedding!”  
  
Dr. Berkowitz and Alex exchanged confused looks and for a moment, nobody knew what to say. Lydia didn’t look at them. She fumbled with her blouse’s sleeve.  
  
“Okay”, Alex began with hesitation. “So Schneider’s marrying Avery.”  
  
Dr. Berkowitz swallowed hard. “Why were you lying to us, Lydia? To _me?_”  
  
“I found out by accident”, Lydia said, defending herself. “I went over to Schneider’s apartment the other day to borrow some rice from him, and the moment he opened the door, I saw his girlfriend, and I asked them: When are you two getting married? And they just answered my question.” She shrugged, carrying the dirty dishes to the kitchen.  
  
Alex shook his head and followed her. “Okay, but why didn’t you tell us? Why didn’t _he_ tell us?”  
  
“Oh, Papito”, Lydia said and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Then, her facial features hardened and she simply said, “That’s a secret”, before continuing her chores.  
  
“Oh, I get it”, Alex said angrily. “When I’ve kept a secret from you, you made me feel guilty about it, but I’m just supposed to accept it when you do it?”  
  
Over in the living room, Dr. Berkowitz was almost set on fire by that _sick burn_, but he didn’t dare to say anything. Neither did Lydia for a moment. Then, she turned around from the sink to look at her grandson with love in her eyes.  
“Alright, Papito, just between the two of us. Leslie, cover your ears!”  
  
“Aye-aye, Lydia”, Dr. Berkowitz called. Unfortunately, he knocked off his glasses just in that moment, so he could only cover his left ear while picking up his glasses from the floor, which proved to be a long-drawn-out process without being able to see anything. But he was _really_ trying not to listen.  
  
Lydia sighed. “Schneider wants to tell all of you when the time is right.”  
  
Alex frowned. “What does that mean?”  
  
“Well.” Lydia had trouble finding the right way to put it. “As you know, Lupita and Schneider are very good friends, and friends take care of each other. He said he doesn’t want to announce it so shortly after Victor’s wedding.”  
  
Alex nodded, slowly comprehending her words. Lydia waited.  
“So”, Alex began, “he doesn’t want to make her feel weird, because everyone around her is suddenly getting married.”  
  
Lydia smiled at him. “Exactly”, she emphasized. “You’re so smart, Papito.”  
  
She turned back around and started soaking the dishes.  
  
“Wow”, Alex said, still comprehending the whole thing. “That’s so weirdly _noble_ of him. I didn’t think he’d be capable of… well, I was going to say ‘keeping a secret’, but I guess we all know he is. I just thought that was a one-time thing.”  
  
“Don’t worry, this time he’s made the right decision by keeping it a secret”, Lydia replied, washing the dishes. “Lupe is already going on a date with a man at the Internet. Imagine what she would do next if she found out! No, this is very nice of Schneider.”  
  
“I guess”, Alex concluded. He went to kiss her cheek. “Good night, grandma.”  
  
“Good night, my sweet son. Grandson.”  
  
Alex passed Dr. Berkowitz on the way to his room. He found him crawling around under the dinner table. “Good night, Doc. Are you okay?”  
  
Dr. Berkowitz gave a thumbs-up. “Excellent.”


	2. Chapter 2

The hatching time of the common city pigeon averages sixteen days.

After tossing and turning in bed from eleven to half past twelve in the morning, Dr. Berkowitz had finally given up on trying to fall asleep at a reasonable time and was back to his usual insomniac activities. One of those was making use of his considerable textbook collection by researching a random scientific topic that bothered him. So for the past thirty minutes, Dr. Berkowitz had been poring over his dusty bird atlas — a true classic of bird literature.

He’d been keeping track of the number of days since he’d first spotted those beautiful, fragile eggs in the pigeon’s nest on his window sill. According to the data, the pigeon mother still had at least eight days of hatching to go, so Dr. Berkowitz had to hold on until Saturday the following week to possibly meet the pigeon fledglings.

He couldn’t imagine a better motivation to make it through the upcoming week. Work had been especially full of terror lately. Penelope, since earning her N.P. title, was constantly arguing with him about her range of expertise and what she was supposedly allowed to do without his guidance (according to her, pretty much _everything_).

Last Tuesday when Scott had come in for work, he’d found Dr. Berkowitz sobbing under the reception desk. Now that alone wouldn’t make Scott bat an eye, but the circumstances surrounding the scene had been a lot to take in. Penelope had been diagnosing a patient in the examination room. By herself. She’d raised her voice aggressively in order to make sure that Dr. Berkowitz didn’t miss a single word she’d said. The worst part? Everything she’d said to the patient had been _correct!_ Scott had simply turned around on his heel, uttering “I’m so over this job” under his breath.

The thought of Scott potentially quitting his job at the clinic at any given moment was yet another thing making work a living hell for Dr. Berkowitz. And, of course, also didn’t make falling asleep any easier. Plus, now that he was living in Schneider’s building, getting to work on time without running into Penelope in the hallway (on _her_ way to work) was a real cat-and-mouse game. At least it was the week-end, so Dr. Berkowitz didn’t have to pre-emptively worry about that on top of everything.  
  
That was when Penelope’s distant voice made his train of worries come to a screeching halt.

It was a mild night of spring and her voice got in through the tilted bedroom window, the one where the pigeons were nesting. He closed his bird atlas, thereby creating a cloud of dust, and moved toward the window, careful not to disturb the pigeon mother.

Dr. Berkowitz peeked outside.

It was almost one in the morning, but still Penelope didn’t seem to want the night with the strange man to end, because she just kept blathering on. The man seemed to enjoy it, though, smiling at her and making her laugh so loudly it probably woke the entire neighborhood. Dr. Berkowitz couldn’t stop watching them, fascinated by the obvious connection they’d managed to build up within mere hours. Nothing of the sort had ever happened to him.

As far as Dr. Berkowitz could tell in the dim street lights, the man’s physical appearance did no harm to Penelope’s previous flings. Her date was a white, tall, dark-haired and sturdy man with glasses, _kind of_ reminding Dr. Berkowitz of someone, but he couldn’t quite remember who.

After fifteen minutes of trying to say good-bye, it looked like they finally managed to separate from each other. But they didn’t kiss.  
  
“Bye!” Penelope called across the street once more. Then, she switched to a laborious whisper. “I’ll call you, all right?”  
  
The strange man grinned, walking backwards to his car. “Not if I call you first!”  
  
“No, really”, Penelope insisted, smiling nervously. “Let me call you first. My family’s Cuban. I don’t want three pairs of ears sticking to my bedroom door while talking to you.”  
  
“Bedroom, huh”, the man said, leaning on his car. “I like where this is going.”  
  
Penelope giggled, waving him off. “Oh, shut up. You know what I mean. Now, come on”, she said, playfully shooing him away.  
  
Dr. Berkowitz and Penelope watched the man perform a skilful turning maneuver and leave the parking lot with squeaking tires.  
  
“That was _hot_”, both Dr. Berkowitz and Penelope concluded in unison.  
  
“Unnecessarily macho, but still”, Penelope added, giving an approving nod.  
  
She smiled to herself as she turned around to go home.  
  
Even though Dr. Berkowitz wouldn’t go as far as saying that seeing Penelope like this made him happy (he wasn’t even sure what true happiness even felt like at this point), he did feel much calmer now that he knew she returned home safely. Possibly, he would even be able to catch some sleep now, and he was sure that Lydia hadn’t slept a wink either. He cuddled up in bed, put on his night cap and finally switched the light off. Lydia was probably also listening to Penelope’s resounding steps on the stairs right now – a happy thought that helped putting Dr. Berkowitz to sleep.

*

In most aspects, Dr. Berkowitz was an old-school guy – when he’d done them wrong, he bought women flowers, didn’t approve of coat and tie combined with plain old jeans and he couldn’t start his day properly without fresh bread rolls and the daily newspaper.

And that would be all good and well, if Dr. Berkowitz wasn’t very _particular_ about his bread rolls. They had to be soft, but not mushy, moist, but not raw, neutral in flavor, but not bland. So, he’d spent every morning ever since he’d moved here foraging Echo Park for _the one_. And by that, he meant that one perfect bakery of course, with fluffy, radiant bread rolls on display, oozing a heavenly smell one could smell from a mile away. But so far, he’d been out of luck.  
  
It promised to be a gorgeous Monday in New York City. The birds were singing, flowers were threading themselves through concrete to reach the sun and people were going for a morning jog with their dogs. But as usual, a cloud was hanging over Dr. Berkowitz’s head as he approached his home with today’s find. He just didn’t have a good feeling about these bread rolls.  
  
Being paranoid about the Alvarez family spotting him, Dr. Berkowitz looked left and right. He took a deep breath before pressing today’s bag of bread rolls to his chest and going for a sprint up the stairs.

His heart almost stopped when he bumped into a man on the stairs, face-first.

His glasses slipped out of position. He couldn’t immediately tell who it was, so on the spur of the moment he switched to his German tourist persona.  
  
“Oh, nein”, Dr. Berkowitz said, hiding his face with his bag from the bakery. His German accent was _on point_. “Excuse me, mein Herr. If I may–”  
  
“Doc?” Schneider gave a confused smile.  
  
“Oh, thank God”, Dr. Berkowitz exhaled, adjusting his glasses. Schneider was freshly shaved, wearing a blue jogging suit and white headphones around his neck, while Dr. Berkowitz looked mostly like a sad, old man. “I thought you were Alex!”  
  
Schneider was visibly flattered. “Thanks, man. You know, I really needed that today. This morning’s been _messy_ so far, I am telling you. Avery–”  
  
“Oh, dear, I’m sorry”, Dr. Berkowitz said, checking left and right, and then lowered his voice down to a whisper. “I’m afraid I really have to go, Schneider.”  
  
Schneider blinked, looking utterly perplexed as he watched Dr. Berkowitz tiptoe up the stairs. “But…” He swallowed, seeming defeated. “Wow. Guess it was my fault, getting too attached… to a _father figure_.”  
  
Dr. Berkowitz stopped.

Schneider waited. Dr. Berkowitz could feel Schneider’s stare boring through his back.

Dr. Berkowitz sighed. He felt guilty and bad for ignoring Schneider’s problems, but also just a tiny bit powerful.

In all honesty, however, he was intrigued by the story Schneider was ready to tell him. Finally, Dr. Berkowitz gave in, even though his therapist, an unemotional lady who had clearly seen it all throughout her career, would absolutely give him the silent treatment for this during their session next Wednesday. _Schneider is not your friend_, she always insisted. _You’re just a convenient trash can for him to dump all of his emotional baggage in._ Dr. Berkowitz’s therapist really wasn’t the best at improving his self-image.  
_  
_“Fine”, Dr. Berkowitz said in a lowered voice. “Follow me. But I’m going to have to ask you to keep it down.”  
  
Schneider immediately lit up, not in the least resentful. “Thanks, Doc”, he blurted out. “I can’t wait to tell you–“  
  
“Quiet!” Dr. Berkowitz hissed.  
  
“O-kay”, Schneider said awkwardly.  
  
Dr. Berkowitz let the two of them inside his apartment and pulled the door shut like someone was after them. He leaned against the door, his heart hammering, and moved his arm to switch the light on, as it was still fairly gloomy outside. He noticed Schneider watching him, both scared and amused.  
  
“Don’t worry, we’re safe in here”, Dr. Berkowitz told him, loosening his own collar.  
  
“What are you talking about?” Schneider laughed. “Man, you’re acting like you’ve killed someone out there.”  
  
“Almost”, Dr. Berkowitz said. “But I noticed the snail in the very last moment.”  
  
He collected himself and went towards the kitchen to set the table. He really had to hurry now if he wanted to make sure that he left for work before Penelope did.

“It’s the fam”, Dr. Berkowitz clarified, handing Schneider a plate and a cup. “They can’t find out that I live here now.”  
  
“Right, yeah”, Schneider said distractedly, putting the dishes on the table. “That’s a reasonable thought.”  
  
Dr. Berkowitz turned to him with a sad expression and a jar of jam in his hand, looking miserable and desperate. “Is it, though? I don’t know. I just don’t want to be a burden to them. I don’t want to come off as sad and lonely!”  
  
“Pff, _you?_ Come on! That’s ridiculous.”  
  
“No, I just don’t think it’s a good idea to tell them. Especially Lydia”, Dr. Berkowitz said. They sat down at his kitchen table with coffee he’d brewed before going to the bakery. “It was a major step for us to sleep in the same hotel in Cuba”, he went on. “She cannot find out that we have been sleeping in the same house for almost two weeks now. Imagine the horror!”  
  
“Oh, sure”, Schneider agreed, sipping coffee. He pulled his phone out of his pockets. “That would be downright dirty.”  
  
Dr. Berkowitz swallowed a bite of bread roll, which left an aftertaste of disappointment in his mouth. He gazed into space. “My ex-wife always told me I would become a dirty old man someday. I didn’t know it would be so soon.”  
  
“Phew”, Schneider made, scrolling his phone’s screen on the table. Then, he slipped his phone back in his pants, and looked as lively as ever. “Anyhow. You won’t _believe_ what happened between me and Avery this morning.”  
  
If there was one thing Dr. Berkowitz couldn’t believe, it was the sheer impossibility of catching some decent bread around here. According to the youth language he’d picked up from listening to Elena playing games in the living room, he was currently being _salty_ about the whole ordeal. Dr. Berkowitz finished up his breakfast while Schneider went on and on about Avery forcing him to run around the block every morning from now on, or as she apparently had put it, to “do something for his health, so they could grow old together”.   
  
Schneider put his head in his hands, groaning. “I’m telling you, she’s just bullying me at this point. That woman needs to be put in her place! Anyways, we’re getting married June 20th, save the date.”  
  
Dr. Berkowitz almost spit out his orange juice, then laboriously swallowed it as quickly as possible, so Schneider wouldn’t have a chance to take back his invitation. It really hurt his throat, but Dr. Berkowitz managed to speak. He was slightly tearing up.  
  
“That’s completely new to me! Congrats! I will mark the date in my calendar _right_ now.”

With that, he pushed back his chair and got up from the table, already whipping his ball pen out of his shirt pocket with a clicking noise.  
  
“Yeah, it’s great”, Schneider said, staring down at the table. He hesitated. “She’s great. But I’m going to have to ask you to keep it a secret. I know, it’s weird – Schneider’s being all reflective, like _what??_ But I just can’t do this to Pen. She’s been so tense ever since the wedding and her anxiety is really bad at the moment. I’m basically spamming her with adorable dog-with-wigs pictures non-stop.”  
  
Dr. Berkowitz, already filled in on the whole story by Lydia, pretended to think about Schneider’s motives for a moment as he skimmed his calendar on the wall. He marked the date proudly. “I understand. You’re being a good friend, Schneider.”  
  
He shrugged. “I try.”  
  
“But I heard that Penelope’s actually getting back on her feet. She’s been on a date Friday night and a little bird told me”, Dr. Berkowitz stopped to quietly rejoice over his pigeon reference, “that it went pretty well.”  
  
Schneider shook his head in surprise. He looked a little hurt. “A date. Wow. She didn’t tell me. Then again, we haven’t been as _tight _lately, ‘cause Avery sure knows how to keep a man busy, if you know what I mean.”  
  
“Sure do”, Dr. Berkowitz said, not being sure, though.  
  
They were quiet for a moment. Dr. Berkowitz felt like he’d done something wrong, perhaps he shouldn’t have told Schneider about her date, though he had no idea why not. It was good news after all. Why hadn’t it cheered Schneider up? Schneider looked down at his own lap, nodding to himself.  
  
“So, I guess”, Schneider went on with a look of relieve. “I guess I can just announce it to her then. She seems to be doing okay.” He showed a genuine smile and seemed like himself again. “Man, I can’t wait! How did she even meet that guy?”  
  
“Oh, she met him on the Internet.”  
  
“Oh my God, she’s _miserable_”, Schneider exclaimed. He jumped to his feet and threw his hands up in horror. “Man, I thought she was in a bad place, but blatantly ignoring her own safety rules?”  
  
He paced the kitchen, talking to himself. “And she’s not even net-savy! She probably signed up to some weird fetish dating website! Trust me, you don’t wanna know what’s out there.”  
  
He turned to Dr. Berkowitz. “I need to check on her _right_ now.”  
  
Dr. Berkowitz nodded. “Have a nice day, Schneider.”  
  
Schneider didn’t reply.  
  
Already half-way out the door, Schneider’s raised voice called from the hallway. “And don’t worry, Doc, your secret’s safe with me!”  
  
Dr. Berkowitz winced, hoping that no one had heard. “Boy, am I glad”, he sighed.  
  
After cleaning up the dishes and putting everything back in the fridge, Dr. Berkowitz stepped in front of his full-body mirror, which he now realized hadn’t been a wise purchase at all. What had he been thinking, willingly exposing himself to the sight of his saggy, potato-esque body? He adjusted his tie and flicked away a crumb from his pants. He met his own eyes in the mirror and sighed, remembering when he’d had hair. Those had been the days. But his therapist had advised him, when the negative _vibes_ became strong, to always remember at least one thing he liked (or tolerated) about himself.

Dr. Berkowitz stood there for five minutes, pondering, until he really, _really_ had to go. In the end, he cheated, and thought that he decidedly tolerated Lydia, who was with him on a regular basis, so she basically counted as a part of him or his life at least. On the stairs, he already heard Penelope noisily saying goodbye to the entire fam upstairs, which gave him a kick of adrenaline. It also sounded like Schneider was still at the Alvarez’ apartment.

On his way out, Dr. Berkowitz silently wondered, because wasn’t Avery still expecting Schneider back from his so-called morning jog? Then again, it wasn’t like Dr. Berkowitz had any idea about the dos and don’ts of a happy relationship.

Dr. Berkowitz rushed to his car, which was parked at least a mile away, so Penelope wouldn’t notice it.

*

Later in the practice, Dr. Berkowitz locked the door, because they always closed up at noon for a couple of hours to have lunch and catch up on some of the paperwork. Dr. Berkowitz was really looking forward to his turkey sandwich. As always, the staff met up in the reception area. Scott took up his usual position in the corner, where he stared at his phone and chewed away at his protein bars in an ostensibly bored manner. But Dr. Berkowitz was far too _hyped _for his sandwich to be bothered by Scott’s behaviour today.

Penelope sat at their round table with an enormous salad displayed in front of her, seeming as chatty as ever. Dr. Berkowitz joined her.  
  
Penelope pulled a disgusted face. “Bleurgh. Being healthy _sucks_.”  
  
“Said the N.P.”, Scott commented without looking up from his phone.  
  
Penelope scoffed. “Shut up. You smoke _and_ drink.”  
  
“The patients don’t know that”, Scott said. “And for the record, I also go jogging every day before work. No exceptions. But why am I telling you, you’re checking out my hot bod _constantly_. ”  
  
“You sound just like Schneider”, Penelope said, looking annoyed. “Except for the last bit, of course, which I choose to ignore for my own sanity. Also, he doesn’t go to work. Other than that, though…”  
  
“One-to-one!” Dr. Berkowitz chimed in.  
  
“Wow, he jogs”, Scott said, mocking her. “He’s so special. Why are you so obsessed with your landlord, anyway?”  
  
Penelope snorted with laughter. Then, she frowned. “I’m not _obsessed_ with Schneider. We’re friends. Of course I like talking about my friends. But oh, you probably can’t relate.”  
  
“Ouch”, Scott said, scrolling on his phone. “Think I might need a band-aid.”  
  
Penelope laughed and started picking at her salad in thought. “It’s just funny, you know? He never used to exercise, except for weird stuff like yoga or Qigong or whatever. All of a sudden he’s Mister Commitment, working out every day for his missus.”  
  
“Perhaps he’s growing up”, Dr. Berkowitz said while unpacking his sandwich, producing a crackling noise.  
  
“Schneider? Please”, Penelope scoffed. “He must be miserable. He’s just too much in love to notice, but give it some time and he’ll be back expanding his Didgeridoo collection or whatever. Actually, Dr. B., that looks delicious, care for a trade?”  
  
“No?” Dr. Berkowitz said cautiously, but Penelope never noticed anything else when she was ranting.

He was left with a healthy but unsatisfying mix of veggies and sprouts. He didn’t know why, but he was sure he deserved it for some reason.  
  
“I’m just saying”, Penelope went on. “Something about the whole thing’s not quite kosher.”  
  
“No, it is”, Dr. Berkowitz defended his lunch. “I ran it by my rabbi!”  
  
“No, I mean the whole Avery thing”, Penelope clarified. “Look, I don’t know her very well, so perhaps I’m wrong, but people who present themselves as nicely as her tend to do a one-eighty behind the scenes.”  
  
“Oh, stop it”, Scott said, actually looking up from his phone for once. “If you’re such an expert on people, then it shouldn’t be as hard for you to find the perfect man.”  
  
Penelope whirled around to stare daggers at him. “A, people change, _Scott_. B, it’s not always that easy. And C, my love life is none of your biz.”  
  
“I’m aware”, Scott said. “But your landlord’s girlfriend sure isn’t, either, but still you keep going on and on about her.”  
  
Penelope groaned. She then shook her head, laughing, and focused on ‘her’ sandwich. “Fine. I’ll stop. It’s not like it’s bothering me _that_ much, okay.”  
  
They continued eating in silence, each of them being busy playing with their mobile devices, or, in Dr. Berkowitz’s case, catching up on the bits of newspaper that he’d missed earlier because of Schneider. Penelope stood the silence for a couple of minutes until she started nervously tapping the table. She shook her head.  
  
“What kind of _poet_ is she even supposed to be?” She blurted out, making Dr. Berkowitz jump.  
  
“Here we go”, Scott grunted.  
  
“Pardon me?” Dr. Berkowitz asked her.  
  
“Like”, Penelope began, frowning and gesticulating. “What kind of poetry does a rich woman like her even come up with? Doesn’t great poetry come from, I don’t know, pain or struggle or something?”  
  
“Not necessarily”, Dr. Berkowitz explained. “Great poets often tend to be driven by ambition or perfectionism. Take Rilke, for example.”  
  
“Okay, but I’m sure that guy wasn’t even close to being as rich as she is”, Penelope ranted on. “I’m just saying, she doesn’t seem that special to me.”  
  
“Probably”, Scott said, mockingly, “because you’re obsessed with your landlord.”  
  
Penelope couldn’t believe it. “So I’m not allowed to have an opinion on my friend’s new girlfriend?”  
  
Scott shrugged. “Sure, go ahead. But your opinions could fill an entire book about her. From what you’ve said about her, she seems like a caring, loving girlfriend to me, and honestly sounds really hot.”  
  
“Exactly my point!” Penelope exclaimed, pointing at him triumphantly.  
  
“Jesus”, Scott muttered. “Am I the only sane person around here?”  
  
“Look, it’s like this”, Penelope said, smirking. “She’s a well-spoken woman, comes from a good home, seems like a patient angel at first, because she never had to endure anything bad in her life. Of course men _love_ her. But I bet she _always_ has to get her way, too, because life’s always been that way for her. Now, just saying. I wouldn’t want to be in Schneider’s shoes.”  
  
“I like ‘em bossy”, Scott said dreamily.  
  
“Okay, I give up.”  
  
“No, I understand you, Penelope”, Dr. Berkowitz said.  
  
Penelope exhaled. “Thank you!”  
  
“My ex-wife used to be _exactly_ like this. Only that she must have skipped the ‘patient-angel-phase’. But what can I say, I have a thing for bossy women.”  
  
“See? He gets it”, Scott said.  
  
“Oh my God”, Penelope said, disgusted. “Trust me, I’m painfully aware of that.”  
She got up from the table and collected her dirty plate. “Anyhow, I declare this conversation officially _over_. Thank you for your contributions, and by that I mean, why do I even try?”  
  
Dr. Berkowitz went to work on his papers. The stacks of unreviewed documents on his desk often haunted him in his dreams. But those dreams were still well beating his nightmares about his ex-wife and daughters dumping his dead body in the ocean. Nevertheless, the work had to be done.

Penelope was busy washing her dishes in the practice’s small staff room, the noise distracting Dr. Berkowitz from his papers. Although to be honest, pretty much everything was welcome to distract him from this horrid task.

Dr. Berkowitz was having a day-dream about dancing closely with Lydia in Cuba, when Scott’s annoyingly obtrusive voice coming from the staff room puffed it out.   
  
Dr. Berkowitz would _never_ eavesdrop on purpose, but it just so happened that he noticed a particularly important stack of paper right next to the door in that moment.  
  
“So…” He heard Scott begin awkwardly.  
  
“So?” Penelope asked in a flippant tone.  
  
“I thought about what you've said earlier", Scott admitted. "And I might know how to help you.”  
  
“_Help_ me? Is this another one of your sneaky sexual innuendos that you think are okay, because they’re not as _obviously_ disgusting as your pick-up lines?”  
  
“No!” Scott revolted. “That was _pas_t-me, okay? New-me knows, thanks to the sexual harassment seminar, that women have _feelings_. And in your case, feelings for certain people.”  
  
“Right”, Penelope said doubtingly. “I’ll listen to this, but only for my own entertainment.”  
  
“You’re acting like a twelve-year-old girl with a crush, but okay”, he replied. “I’ll take this opportunity, ‘cause if I have to listen to you going on and on about your landlord for the rest of my life, I’ll have to quit this job immediately.”  
  
“Oh, no!” Dr. Berkowitz gasped. He quickly covered his mouth with his hand.  
  
“I’m listening”, Penelope repeated, obviously not taking Scott seriously.  
  
“So, this is my hot take on the issue”, Scott said.  
  
“What _issue_?”  
  
“Jesus, are you capable of being quiet? God.”  
  
Scott took a deep breath, maximizing the suspense.  
  
“I think you have a thing for him. Like, a big thing.”  
  
Penelope scoffed. “Oh, please.”  
  
“No, no, I’m not finished. I think you don’t even want to realize what kind of big thing you have for him, because it scares you.”  
  
“Please stop saying ‘big thing’.”  
  
“Because you’re scared of commitment!” Scott clarified. “Trust me, I’ve been there, too. But my girlfriend and I have been together for four years now, and I’m over it.”  
  
“You do know I was _married_, right?”  
  
“Well, maybe deep down you knew that it wouldn’t last.”  
  
“All right, that’s _enough_”, Penelope cut him off. “I do not have to listen to love advice from a man who didn’t know women had feelings until somebody told him.”  
  
“Aw, you said love.”  
  
Dr. Berkowitz could easily tell that Penelope was about to explode.  
  
“Look, Scott!” She practically screamed. Quickly she collected herself, took a deep breath and continued speaking in a disturbingly calm manner. “Look. Buddy. Listen. People have been telling me to get together with Schneider ever since it’s been over with Victor–“  
  
“Your mother?” Scott inquired.  
  
“Mostly!” Penelope yelled, slowly losing her cool again. “But the thing is, there’s nothing there! He’s a rich man baby, who happens to be a real good friend and listener, which is why I like him. But that’s _it!_ I only talk about him this much, because I care about his happiness, like any good friend would, and also, because I’m seeing somebody at the moment who _sort of_ reminds me of him. Okay? Now can we please stop pretending to not dislike each other?”  
  
“Fine with me”, Scott replied, unimpressed. “The big I-told-you-so-moment is only gonna get more satisfying in time.”  
  
“Whatever”, Penelope waved him off. “I think our lunch break is _well_ over.”  
  
Dr. Berkowitz checked his watch. Yes, it surely was.


	3. Chapter 3

The day had been long and exhausting.

Dr. Berkowitz had stumbled into another fight with Penelope in front of a patient. Fortunately, the argument had quickly met its end with the compromise of Dr. Berkowitz prescribing heavy pain killers to Ms. Esposito while Penelope had been allowed to expertly look over his shoulder and say things like, “Yes, exactly what I would have prescribed”. Dr. Berkowitz thought he could live with that, even though he wasn’t sure if Ms. Esposito had been very fond of her prescription process being made into a big deal.

They couldn’t afford to lose a regular patient like her.  
  
_Switch off_, Dr. Berkowitz reminded himself of what his therapist had advised him. _You have to let go every once in a while, or else you’ll lose your goddamn mind._ His therapist wasn’t really the best at making him feel positive about his future, either.  
  
Dr. Berkowitz, knowing a sure-fire way of switching off, traversed his bedroom. The evening sun provided a comfortable, dimmed lighting. Dr. Berkowitz leaned on the window sill, careful not to startle the pigeons. He closed his eyes and listened to them cooing, which helped settling his mind.

At least until the moment Lydia called his cell.

The specific ringtone he’d picked out for her (Cuban rumba rhythm) always put Dr. Berkowitz in comparatively high spirits and even made his heart jump a little. The pigeons weren’t fans of it, however, the mother pigeon nervously twitching her wings to fly off. Dr. Berkowitz started for the living room and finally picked up his cell with sweaty fingers.  
  
“Lydia”, he greeted her, sounding fairly depressed, still. “What a pleasant surprise.”  
  
“Yes, well”, Lydia said. “I do my best. Would you like to pay me a visit this evening, Leslie?”  
  
“Of course”, Dr. Berkowitz immediately said. He waited for her reason, because Lydia never invited him over without having a good reason to do so.

She hesitated, and it was probably a stupid thought, but for a moment it seemed like she was actively _trying_ to come up with something. Dr. Berkowitz nervously fiddled around with his ballpoint, waiting.  
  
“I have”, Lydia began. She gave an insecure laugh before reorganizing her sentence. “I mean, _Penelope_ has… ¿Cómo se dice…” She paused again. Then, she took on a triumphant tone of voice. “No, what I mean is, _I_ have bought two new pairs of high heels and you need to help me decide which one I should keep. It’s a tough decision, because both of them are fabuloso.”  
  
Dr. Berkowitz didn’t have to think twice about it. “I honestly can’t imagine a better reason to take on that two-hour drive.”  
  
“¡Qué genial! Thank you, Leslie. Good-bye.“  
  
„Good-bye, Lydia.“  
  
Dr. Berkowitz, being really excited to see his non-sexual platonic companion, had already put his shoes on when he realized that he couldn’t go upstairs to see her for another two hours. Unless, of course… he was in the area by _coincidence_, because he’d visited an old friend. No, that wasn’t credible. He was in the area, because he’d had an _appointment_ with his dermatologist to find a treatment for the horrible _rash_ that had spread around his nether regions like wildfire – much better!

Dr. Berkowitz stood around his living room for another ten minutes, waiting, until he felt like an appropriate amount of time had passed. Then he rushed upstairs with the enthusiasm of a schoolboy on his way to spent all of his pocket money on candy. He knocked, cautiously, and a few seconds later he heard Lydia calling for Penelope to get the door.  
  
He had trouble making out Lydia’s muffled, stressed-sounding words. “I don’t know who it is! It can’t be Leslie, because he has to drive for two hours until he gets here. And he would never be early, because he knows that a lady takes her time!”  
  
“Oh God”, Dr. Berkowitz muttered, making a move to escape down the stairs. “I've made a huge mistake.”  
  
Unfortunately, he wasn’t fast enough, because he somehow managed to stumble over his own left foot. Dr. Berkowitz screamed and collapsed right next to the Alvazez’ door. When Penelope stepped out of the apartment, Dr. Berkowitz was once again crawling on the floor, feeling for his glasses.   
  
At first, she hesitated. “Are you okay down there?”  
  
“Fine, fine”, Dr. Berkowitz said in a disguised voice. “Nothing to see here.”  
  
“Wait”, Penelope said, stepping closer and leaning over him. “Is that you, Dr. B?”  
  
Dr. Berkowitz finally found his glasses and awkwardly got up from the floor. He looked at her, confused. “Possibly. No? I’m not sure.”  
  
Penelope gave a short laugh, frowning. “What’s going on with you? Come inside already.”  
  
Dr. Berkowitz followed Penelope into the apartment with a sigh, silently cursing himself for his lack of self-control earlier. If only he’d waited longer. Now Lydia would surely never want to see him again. Penelope stopped in the middle of the living room, again smiling at him in a weird way.  
  
“I’m gonna go find Mami”, Penelope said to him. “She just took a shower and doesn’t have her make-up on, so she’s hiding from any potential guests. You know, like any crazy person would do. Mami?” Penelope called for her. She then turned back around to Dr. Berkowitz. “You’re a little early, aren’t you?”  
  
“Yeah, well”, Dr. Berkowitz said, drops of sweat collecting on his forehead. “I was sort of in the area?”  
  
“Okay”, Penelope said, frowning. “How so?”  
  
“Oh”, he said, trying to remember the story he’d come up with. “I went to see my doctor, because of my nether regions?”  
  
“Your… _oh._”  
  
“Yes... I have a rash down there, believe me, it’s _nasty_–“  
  
“Mami! There you are!” Penelope interrupted him with relieve.  
  
Before Dr. Berkowitz had a chance to fully take Lydia’s appearance in, he was frightened by the sound of her gasping for air at the sight of him. Lydia was wearing an ankle-length bathrobe in shiny red. Dr. Berkowitz thought that her hair looked beautiful, but it wasn’t how she usually tended to wear it – it was very curly. At first glance, her make-up appeared to be as perfect as ever, but then he noticed the blush on her cheeks being much more apparent than usual and her lipstick seemingly having been slapped on in a hurry. Nevertheless, Dr. Berkowitz was enchanted by her entrance.  
  
“It is you”, Lydia gasped in shock. Now Dr. Berkowitz felt like a traitor.  
  
“Lydia”, he greeted her, not knowing what to say. “You look just…” He paused, gesturing in the direction of her body.  
  
“Don’t waste your breath, Leslie”, she said, glowering at him. “I thought you were a gentleman, but oh, was I wrong.”  
  
She stamped into her room and turned around to look at Penelope and him with the curtain in each hand. Her face was a disappointed, furious mask.  
  
“Only Lupe is allowed to see me like this.” She gave Penelope the evil eye. Her bottom lip started to tremble with anger. “No man has ever seen me like this! Not even Berto!”  
  
“Oh, Mami”, Penelope said to her, soothingly. “It’s just Dr. Berkowitz.”  
  
“Exactly”, Dr. Berkowitz agreed. “_Am_ I even a man?”  
  
Lydia hesitated. Then, she loosened her death-grip on the curtains and sighed. “Fine. I’m going to calm down and confess to Berto. He’s _not_ going to like this.”  
  
“Do what you have to do”, Penelope encouraged her.  
  
Lydia turned to Dr. Berkowitz one last time. She frowned, as if she was only really noticing him right now. She looked at Penelope. “How did he get here so fast?”  
  
Penelope opened her mouth to reply, but Dr. Berkowitz was faster. “Oh, I was in the area.”  
  
“Why?” Lydia asked.  
  
This time, Penelope was faster. “You don’t wanna know. Trust me. Now _go_.”  
  
Penelope shooed Lydia into her room, closing the curtains behind her. Penelope appeared to be quite stressed out, Dr. Berkowitz noted. And now he also registered her glammed-up look. She was in heels, too.  
  
“I have to go check on Elena”, Penelope said to Dr. Berkowitz while hurrying towards Elena's room. “Syd’s here, and these two lovebirds are _awfully_ quiet in there, so wish me luck.”  
  
Dr. Berkowitz had just made himself comfortable on the couch, knowing that Lydia would especially take her time now out of spite, when Penelope’s scream almost gave him a heart attack. He couldn’t quite make out what was going on over in Elena’s room, but Penelope sure didn’t sound very pleased. When Penelope came back into the living room, she looked like she’d just seen a ghost.  
  
“God, kids are so perverted these days”, she complained, shuddering.  
  
Penelope grabbed a magazine and plopped down at the dinner table, grumbling to herself. She looked at the pages without really reading them and almost tore them in half as she flipped them. Dr. Berkowitz wasn’t entirely sure if he’d done something wrong to cause this behavior, so he rather apologized to her, but only received a snappish _“_What the hell?_”_ in response. For the next twenty minutes, he didn’t dare saying anything else and tensely waited for Lydia to be ready. About fifty almost-torn magazine pages later, Lydia yanked the curtains open without any further warning. Dr. Berkowitz, who’d spent the last twenty minutes or so sitting on the sofa as stiffly as a poker, recoiled. This evening surely wasn’t easy on his fragile heart.

He turned around.

Lydia was striking a dramatic pose. She was quite literally _shining_ in her elegant floral dress and joint-friendly evening heels.  
  
“Lydia!” Dr. Berkowitz gasped, touched by her beauty. “You’re glowing! And that _dress_–”  
  
“Oh, stop it”, Lydia said, confidently smiling. “But thank you, I know.”  
  
Penelope was so used to Lydia’s entrances that she hadn’t even blinked. She still seemed to be a bit beside herself, but finally managed to break away from her magazine. She gazed at her mother, who was strutting past her on her way to the kitchen.  
  
“Check out that _dress_, Mami”, Penelope complimented her.   
  
Lydia didn’t even look at her. “That’s old news, Lupe”, she bitched.  
  
Penelope put her hands up in a defensive manner. “Sorry, just trying to be nice here.”  
  
“How did he react?” Dr. Berkowitz couldn’t resist asking Lydia, even though he was a little scared of Berto.  
  
“Yeah”, Penelope chimed in. “Was Papi mad?”  
  
Lydia shrugged. “Eh. Berto knows that I belong to him. And it’s just Leslie, who cares?”  
  
Having said that, Lydia left the two of them alone in the living room and, while starting to prepare dinner, put some music on in the kitchen. Penelope groaned, got up from the table and followed Lydia into the kitchen. Penelope turned the volume so far down that you’d have needed hearing aid to register it.  
  
“What is this?” Lydia complained, raising her knife. “Havana in 1961?”  
  
“First of all, why don’t we put that down”, Penelope said, nervously removing the knife from Lydia’s hand and placing it on the cutting board. She then took on an explanatory tone of voice. “We can’t turn the music up this loud today, because Syd’s here. With Elena. So…”  
  
Lydia frowned. “So?”  
  
“I’m not gonna go into full detail here”, Penelope said. “But it’d be wise to be able to hear what they’re doing in there.”  
  
“_Oh_, I see”, Lydia said, proceeding to cut vegetables. “Because you don’t want them to do their nerdy stuff. Muy listo.”  
  
Penelope gave an uncomfortable laugh. “No, Mami. Because I don’t want them to do their smoochy stuff, to say the least.”  
  
Lydia made a noise of understanding. Then, she looked quizzical. “They do that?”  
  
Penelope rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mami, queer people _do that_. Now, can we change the topic, please? Can I help you with the cooking?”  
  
Lydia shook her head. “No, thank you, Lupe. You should better keep an eye on Elena.”  
  
Penelope froze. “It’s quiet in here, isn’t it? Too quiet. _Dangit._” Penelope got going again, her curls bouncing on her shoulders. “Stupid, horny teenagers.”  
  
Suddenly Lydia clutched Penelope’s shoulder. “Leslie!” She called him. “Check on Elena!”  
  
Dr. Berkowitz winced and jumped to his feet without giving the task much thought. In fact, he was amazed at receiving such an important order from Lydia. “On my way!”  
  
“What, Mami, _no!_” Penelope stared at Lydia, wiggling her shoulders to free herself. “Let go of me! I don’t want to traumatize my daughter like this! Even though, after what I’ve seen earlier, it would only be fair.” She paused, gazing into the distance. “Anyhow. Imagine making out with Papi and suddenly, an old, sad-looking man bursts in! You’d be scarred for life! No offense, Dr. B.”  
  
“You’re not wrong”, Dr. Berkowitz agreed with her.  
  
“But I want you to tell me about your date tonight”, Lydia complained to her, pouting. “You're always so busy. You’ve been silent about the mysterious Internet-man all week-end! For all I know, he could be anybody.”  
  
“How do you even know about our date tonight?” Penelope snapped, glowering at Lydia. “Dr. B., go check on the kids. But don’t be creepy!”  
  
“Roger!” Dr. Berkowitz called.

He started tip-toeing towards Elena’s room, because God forbid, he did _not_ want to shock Syd and her with his loud, manly steps.

He was relieved to have a chance to escape the forthcoming fight between Lydia and her daughter. The last bit of Lydia’s speech that he heard was, “Well, what did you expect when he called you? Of course I listened behind your bedroom door! I’m a responsible mother!”

It was best to be as far away from _that_ as possible, he guessed.  
  
Dr. Berkowitz creeped towards Elena’s door, passing Alex in his room. Alex was listening to music while taking playful selfies, sitting on his bed. Now, that was embarrassing!

He continued his way.

Penelope had been right. Elena’s room _was_ conspicuously quiet. Holding his breath, Dr. Berkowitz peeked around the door frame of her room.

And he couldn’t believe what kind of scandalous scenery was laid upon his eyes!

Elena and Syd sat cuddled-up on the bed, Elena with her laptop resting on her thighs. They appeared to be watching videos on the Internet. The horrible things they could possibly be exposed to right now! _If_ they were looking, that was, because currently they were furiously making out.

Before Dr. Berkowitz had the chance to knock on the door frame or clear his throat like a normal person would do, things didn’t quite go as planned. Because unfortunately, that was the exact moment his daily smile reminder went off. The couple broke apart, gasping for air and staring at each other in confusion. It didn’t take long for Elena to find the source of the noise. She locked eyes with Dr. Berkowitz, who was smiling at them uncannily from the dark hallway. Elena’s following piercing scream surely scared the pigeons away for good.

*

Dinner was served.

Dr. Berkowitz wasn’t entirely sure how the dish was called, but was too scared to ask, because the atmosphere in the living room was beyond uncomfortable. Even though it tasted as exquisite as always, everyone, but especially Syd and Elena, was picking at their food. Well, except for Alex, who’d been listening to music so loudly in his room that he hadn’t realized the whole prior situation. Penelope cleared her throat and gave a tense, small smile.  
  
“The food’s delicious, Mami”, she said to Lydia.  
  
“U-huh”, Elena made, avoiding any eye-contact.  
  
“Very yummy”, Syd agreed, looking at Lydia with her eyes wide-open.  
  
Everyone else also mumbled their agreement.  
  
Lydia smiled to herself. “Thank you, everyone.”  
  
Before they had the chance to go back to agonizing silence, however, Alex decided to speak up. “What’s the matter with you all today?” He asked, frowning at them. “Why is no one being embarrassing? Did something happen?”  
  
“No”, Elena blurted out way too loudly. Syd side-eyed her. “Everything’s fine.”  
  
“It’s all good, sweetie”, Penelope calmed him. “It’s just a quiet evening.”  
  
“Okay”, Alex said, not believing her. “That literally never happened before, but okay.”  
  
“There’s a first time for everything”, Dr. Berkowitz replied.  
  
“Right”, Alex said. “If there’s a first time for everything, can I play on my phone, then? ‘Cause this is _so boring_.”  
  
“No”, Penelope warned him. “’Cause we’re civilized people.” Her phone rang in her pocket. “Oh, wait, I gotta take this.”  
  
She rushed out of the living room, for some reason fixing her hair while walking. Lydia smiled knowingly at Dr. Berkowitz and mouthed “It’s the Internet-man” at him. Dr. Berkowitz gave her a conspiratorial wink. She returned it. Not to exaggerate, but it was the best moment of his life.  
  
“So, Papito, how’s school?” Lydia asked him.  
  
“Not bad”, Alex replied. “I got an A today.”  
  
“How amazing.” Lydia patted Alex’s hand. “You’re doing so great.”  
  
“Mine’s not bad, either”, Elena said, fake-smiling at Lydia. “Thank you for asking.”  
  
When Penelope came back to the table, smiling dumbly, the fam was pretty much back to business as usual, chatting and laughing. Except for Lydia, who was now pouting and sliding a piece of carrot around on her plate. Penelope didn’t notice. She continued eating with a slight blush on her cheeks and a content smile on her lips. The Internet-man really had to be a big hit, Dr. Berkowitz thought. He leaned over to Lydia to check on her, pulling a sympathetic face.  
  
“What’s wrong, Lydia?”  
  
At once everyone went quiet, because the importance of what she was about to say suddenly became palpable. Lydia sighed and looked truly sad, helplessly gesturing. She truly made the most of the attention that was given to her.

Then, at once, she banged her fist on the table.  
  
“I miss Schneider”, she finally brought out. “There, I’ve said it."  
  
Penelope appeared personally offended, as if Lydia had admitted to missing Fidel Castro.  
  
“Me too”, Alex admitted, and everyone except Penelope quietly agreed. Even Dr. Berkowitz did.  
  
“Phew”, Penelope made, rolling her eyes. “Really, people? Don’t say that too loud or he might hear.”  
  
Now it was Lydia’s turn to be offended. “He used to be here all the time! Since when do you hate him?”  
  
“I don’t hate him”, Penelope laughed. Her eyes had a crazy, furious glint to them. “But he’s a grown-up now”, she went on, as if to calm herself. “Avery and him need their alone-time together.” She scoffed, crossing her arms. “Apparently.”  
  
“But they can have alone-time for the rest of their lives!” Lydia called out, dramatically emphasizing her words with expansive hand gestures.

Oh boy, Dr. Berkowitz thought. Realizing what she had just said, Lydia winced and covered her mouth.  
  
“Why?” Penelope asked, frowning and giving an insecure laugh. “Do you really think they’ll make it? It’s Schneider!”  
  
Everyone avoided eye-contact with her.  
  
“Hello?” Penelope asked, confused. She tried finding Alex’s gaze, bending each and every way to look at his face, but he didn’t let her get to him. His abuelita had probably taught him at an early age that snitches got stitches. 

Luckily, that was the moment Schneider burst in. Wait, he did?  
  
“I’m back, amigos!”  
  
Just like that Schneider came swaggering into the living room, arms wide open and a big grin on his face. As usual he was sporting a casual short-sleeved shirt and jeans, making Dr. Berkowitz feel even less attractive and really old (also as usual).  
  
Lydia beamed with joy. “Schneider!”  
  
Even though it had been a while since Schneider had spent an evening at the Alvarez’ home (as far as Dr. Berkowitz knew, anyway), he didn’t seem awkward in the least. In fact, he acted like he’d never left. He targeted Dr. Berkowitz, seeming playful. Penelope was already rolling her eyes in advance.  
  
“Just had some _alone-time_ with Avery.”  
  
Schneider raised his hand to high-five Dr. Berkowitz.  
  
“You know it!” Dr. Berkowitz said, nervously. They high-fived, creating an awkward slapping noise.  
  
“Don’t you have better things to do than listening at people’s doors?” Penelope asked Schneider, frowning at him. “It’s creepy. _And_ violates our privacy. We could sue you.”  
  
“You’re still mad at me? Aw, man”, Schneider whined, covering his face. “I don’t even know what I did wrong! Women are so complicated.”  
  
“Uh”, Elena chimed in with a raised pointing finger. “No, they’re not. That’s just an excuse men _love_ to use so they never have to think about their actions.” She paused. Syd gave an approving nod. “But seriously, Mum, what did he do?”  
  
“Um, hello?” Penelope looked around as if she was surrounded by maniacs. “Did we all collectively forget about what happened this morning?”  
  
“Schneider was worried about you and came in to check on you, even though he knew that Avery would be mad at him for taking that long, but he still took the risk?” Alex recalled in a sarcastic tone. “That was so mean.”  
  
“Yeah, it was?” Penelope said, raising her hands in a desperate gesture. “He treated me–no, _you_ treated me”, she corrected herself, pointing at Schneider accusingly, “like I’m some loca having a mid-life crisis, just because I’ve met a man on the Internet!”  
  
“It’s just not you!” Schneider and Lydia explained in unison.  
  
“You know what, _I_ decide that.” Penelope glowered at them. “_I _decide who and how I am.”  
  
“Exactly”, Elena empowered her. “What’s wrong with Mum expanding her horizon? ‘Cause, newsflash: A lot of people these days meet the love of their life on the Internet.”  
  
“It’s true”, Alex agreed. “Chloe and I met online.”  
  
“Oh, shut up, Papito”, Penelope said to him, angry and smiling at the same time. “You’re sweet, though. “  
  
Standing there and considering everything that had been said, Schneider was thoughtful for a moment. He actually looked quite alienated. Dr. Berkowitz felt sorry for him, even though his therapist would verbally smack him for it. Penelope continued eating, avoiding everyone’s concerned gazes.  
  
“Okay, so”, Schneider said, quietly. “I guess I did act like a jerk towards you, Pen. I don’t get to tell you what’s good for you, because in the end, you know yourself best. I’m sorry.”  
  
The two of them met eyes.  
  
At first Penelope hesitated, not sure whether his apology was enough, but her mother’s judgemental looks from aside helped making up her mind. She showed a cautious but earnest smile.  
  
“Alright”, she concluded.  
  
“Yes!” Schneider exclaimed before she had a chance to say anything else. “Finally, I can feel normal again! And we’ve got so much to catch up on. You know, yesterday I–“  
  
“Not so fast”, Penelope interrupted him, laughing. “I forgive you, but I’m still mad.”  
  
“Oh, sure.” Schneider seemed confused. “So, what’s the etiquette for that?”  
  
“Suffering”, Dr. Berkowitz sighed.  
  
“Just give me another day or two”, Penelope explained to him. “I’m sure whatever you were about to say can wait a while longer. Unless you were about to say you were getting _married_ or something”, she cackled. “That image would really cheer me up right now.”  
  
Everyone stared at Schneider, who uttered a pitiful laugh. It sounded like a mix between a gagging noise and an asthmatic attack. Penelope, however, was truly amused and didn’t notice his odd behavior. Schneider tugged at his shirt to cool himself.  
  
“Right, yeah”, he finally managed to say in a joking tone. “Can you imagine that? Me, getting married?”  
  
Penelope was taken by another bout of laughter. “No! I really can’t.”  
  
Before he could choke on his own laughter, Schneider was luckily saved by a knock on the door.  
  
“I’ll take that”, he said, getting a move on.  
  
“Yeah, sure”, Penelope croaked, still wheezing and struggling to get a grip.  
  
“Is that the Internet man?” Lydia asked, suspiciously.  
  
Dr. Berkowitz checked his watch. “Not a minute too late. He’s really into her.”  
  
Penelope’s laugh froze. “Oh, no! Schneider, wait!”  
  
But it was in vain. Schneider was already greeting the stranger at the door, self-confident as ever.

Schneider turned around to address Penelope, looking rather enthusiastic.  
“Girl, you’ve got _taste!_”


End file.
